


working hard (hardly working)

by reginagalaxia



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, kimishita pov, kimishita that's not jealousy you're feeling, very delayed realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginagalaxia/pseuds/reginagalaxia
Summary: ooshiba's parents tell him that he needs to get a job, and kimishita's parents suggest that he work with kimishita in their store for the summer.it seems like a terrible idea until...well, it turns out not to be so bad.





	working hard (hardly working)

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for my loveliest adél <3

Even before Atsushi sees Ooshiba, he hears the tell-tale whine of complaint in the tone of his voice as he calls, “Kimishita!”

Begrudgingly, Atsushi turns to the source of the voice, quirking up a corner of his mouth as he does. He’s almost prepared for the twitch in his eye to make its appearance, even though it hasn’t been frequenting his face as often of late. It’s probably because they’ve finished entrance and final exams, and Atsushi isn’t in a permanent state of study-induced rigor mortis.

“What,” Atsushi says, amused at how every part of Ooshiba’s body skids to a halt at a different time. All of his limbs seem to want to do their own thing, which is appropriate, considering who they belong to.

Ooshiba puts his hands on his waist and bends so he’s face-to-face with Atsushi.

“Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me!”

“I’m not acting,” Atsushi replies, arching an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“My parents told me to get a job before I start university. Good experience, or something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“And, I’m supposed to do what with that information, exactly?”

“You have a job. How do you get one?”

“I work for my parents, so that’s how I got it,” Atsushi says, calmly enough to surprise himself.

“But you know how to get a job?” Ooshiba asks.

“Apply to some?” Atsushi offers, unsure of exactly where this is going.

Ooshiba sounds extremely agitated when he asks, “How?”

“What do you mean, how?” Atsushi makes a face at him, turning his palms up in confusion.

“I don’t know how!”

“Do you need me to show you how to make a resume?” Atsushi asks, knowing that Ooshiba will likely be too proud to accept the offer and sulk off. He rights himself, pouting, which has no business being as stupidly charming as it is. Atsushi doesn’t even know why he’d think of it as charming, of all things. Ridiculous.

“Yes. You’re good at this stuff.” Ooshiba stands before him, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, eyes averted.

Prior to this year, Ooshiba admitting he needs help in something outside of school would have stunned Atsushi into silence, but they’ve made some progress. Maybe being third years has changed them both, who knows?

“Fine. Tomorrow after school?”

“Why not today?”

“I have stuff to do?”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Brat.”

 

Atsushi invites Ooshiba over, and they sit down to work on his resume. After spending the better part of an hour arguing over the wording of three bullet points, Atsushi is ready to throw Ooshiba out the window, followed shortly by his laptop. He’s not making the process any easier by insisting on embellishing everything, and Atsushi isn’t about to let him out into the world with the disaster he currently has on his screen.

Atsushi’s parents come home and find him watching Ooshiba while he taps away at his ‘employment masterpiece.’ They, having grown very fond of Ooshiba over the past few months of nearly continuous studying, invite him over for dinner.

Atsushi sighs while he picks at his food and Ooshiba continues to impress his family. It’s embarrassing how much they like him, and Atsushi watches him wear that stupid charming prince smile like he’s genuinely princely or something.

He’s not bad looking, especially when he’s smiling, but only when it’s an honest smile, though. This one’s a far cry from it. Atsushi stares sharply back at his food, wondering when he started cataloguing Ooshiba’s smiles. They’ve been spending way too much time together.

“Atsushi?” his mom asks, and Atsushi tries to act like he had been listening, but her facial expression makes it clear that she’s not buying it.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asks, kicking Ooshiba’s foot to wipe that delighted look off his face.

“I was just saying how nice it would be for you to have some company at the store!”

Atsushi blinks, and he turns to see Ooshiba’s grin consuming his entire face.

“Yeah, Kimishita. We can work together,” Ooshiba says, resting his chin in his gigantic beast hands and using that princely smile on him.

With a glance at both his parents to confirm, Atsushi begins the slow process of resigning himself to now being coworkers with Ooshiba. His cheeks are red from the embarrassment of somehow missing this entire conversation, though he was physically present, and a little because of how everyone is just staring at him right now.

He shoves some beef in his mouth with a frustrated sound and chews, lest he say something to incriminate himself further.

 

Atsushi is tasked with supervising Ooshiba for the first week, so he can learn all the procedures, and how to operate the cash properly. Evidently, Atsushi’s dad had forgotten to mention this fact, because Ooshiba is genuinely surprised when Atsushi tells him as much.

“It’s not just me?” he asks, scooching over to let Atsushi sit next to him behind the counter.

“Not yet, anyway. I want to make sure you don’t call me every ten minutes panicking about every little thing.”

“I wouldn’t panic,” Ooshiba says petulantly, and for some reason, it makes Atsushi smile. Seeing someone as physically large as Ooshiba pouting is ridiculous, and that’s likely why.

“I believe you.”

 

Ooshiba learns relatively quickly, and since the weekday mornings are slower, customers are few and far between. The free time gives them plenty of time to bicker, although it’s a lot more playful than it used to be. It’s more habit than anything, and despite his initial apprehensions, Atsushi has to admit that it’s not unpleasant.

To nobody’s surprise, Ooshiba’s natural charm actually works on most people, and he has very little difficulty adjusting to customer service. Atsushi finds himself observing Ooshiba with a frown more often than not, amazed at how he can be two different people.

One of Ooshiba’s unexpected benefits is that he can reach every single shelf in the back without needing a step stool. Not that Atsushi will ever admit to needing help in that particular department, but it’s easy enough to pull the seniority card and make Ooshiba go grab things. He’s too earnest at first to really question anything that Atsushi says, though he starts to make a show of reaching for boxes on the uppermost shelf even when Atsushi hasn’t asked for those.

Atsushi just levels him with a glare, and returns to his reading with heat rising to his face.

“Good thing you don’t need the step stool anymore,” Ooshiba says smugly, though Atsushi makes a conscious effort to avoid acknowledging him as he sits down. No need to indulge his smugness and further stroke his ego.     

When they’re not chatting or bickering, Atsushi is trying to get ahead in reading for university and Ooshiba is leafing through a seemingly endless pile of magazines. He only pauses to point to various small, or prickly, things, and say, “Hey, it’s you.” Sometimes, it’s both, and Atsushi reluctantly chuckles at a few of them, pointing at anything large and stick-like in return, calling it Ooshiba.

The first week absolutely flies by, and Kimishita is almost reluctant to start a new week in which Ooshiba won’t be needing supervision.

 

Ooshiba and Atsushi’s work schedules are pinned to the wall by the cash, and despite the fact that they aren’t meant to overlap, they end up together more often than not. Ooshiba cites boredom since they don’t have classes for the entirety of February, and he’s comfortable enough in the store by the end of the month to just stroll in and plop down next to Atsushi.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Atsushi asks, voice muffled because his face is nestled in his hand. He tips his head so he can look at Ooshiba, who immediately sprawls across the counter with a whine. His gigantic limbs spill over the surface and unceremoniously shove all of Atsushi’s papers and books out of the way. Atsushi chokes down a chuckle, since none of his things are any worse for wear.

“Don’t you? We haven’t even graduated and you’re reading already. Nerd.”

“Yeah, I intend on actually doing well. And I’m actually working right now,” Atsushi replies, swatting Ooshiba over the head with a rolled-up notebook.

“Ow!” Ooshiba yelps, over-dramatically, then immediately sets to fixing imaginary stray hairs back into place.

“That didn’t hurt,” Atsushi insists, but Ooshiba’s pout persists. Ridiculous. He shakes his head and replaces the scattered pages.

“It didn’t, but you wrecked my hair.”

Atsushi snorts in amusement. “Your—oh yeah, it’s a disaster.”

Ooshiba’s eyes widen and he scrambles out of his chair so quickly that he may as well have left a image of himself behind. He examines himself in the mirror, and once he’s satisfied with what he sees—which is almost all of the time, as far as Atsushi knows—he comes back.

“Nothing I couldn’t fix,” Ooshiba states simply, and sprawls again, intent on resuming his earlier dramatics. “Entertain me.”

“I’m not here to entertain you,” Atsushi says, though they’ll end up having a good time with each other eventually.

“Then why am I even here?” Ooshiba groans.

“Why _are_ you here?”

“I told you! I’m bored.” Ooshiba lifts his gaze to meet Atsushi’s and frowns, warping his face even more than the counter already had. “You are too.”

“This is why I’m studying,” Atsushi points out, but there’s no convincing Ooshiba.

“You’ve studied enough to carry over to university. Let’s play keep-up, or something.”

“That’s not how it works, and I’m not destroying the store.”

Ooshiba somehow manages to slump more, and narrows his eyes at Atsushi, blinking when his bangs get in the way. Atsushi’s lips want to twitch into a smile but he resists.

“You’re the worst friend ever.”

With an irritated sigh, Atsushi says, “Fine. Sit still for five minutes while I finish reading this and then we can do something.”

Like an eager puppy, Ooshiba sits bolt upright in his chair and grins. His hands are splayed out at the edge of the counter, braced for waiting, Atsushi supposes. Not trusting either of their abilities to judge time, he sets a timer on his phone and puts it midway between them.

“No cheating,” he tells Ooshiba, then pulls his hair into a messy ponytail so he can study properly. It’s gotten long enough that he’s can’t decide whether to have it up or down at any given moment, and it’s starting to drive him insane.

Ooshiba is staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“I’ve never seen you with a ponytail before,” he says weakly, after a moment’s silence. He’s still watching Atsushi intently, which is strange. Maybe the ponytail doesn’t suit him.

“I don’t wear it often,” Atsushi mumbles, looking away. He moves to pull the tie out, assuming that the look is ridiculous enough for Ooshiba to be practically gawking at him.

“No—” Ooshiba reaches, then pulls his hand back. “It’s fine.”

“Oh. Okay.” Atsushi turns his attention back to his book sheepishly and tugs the ponytail a little tighter so that it’ll stay. He doesn’t understand why his cheeks feel so warm all of a sudden, but he ignores it and starts a new chapter.

Atsushi can’t focus. He’s hyper-aware of Ooshiba like he’s never been before. After this many years in school together, he thought he was a master of ignoring Ooshiba’s presence. Now, Ooshiba is sitting quietly next to him, which shouldn’t be as much of a distraction as it is. His lips pull into a taut line, and he glances over at the timer. There are three minutes of this weird torture left.

For the first time in his life, since he met Ooshiba, Atsushi is the first to get distracted. He’s not about to admit it openly, so he resumes reading a single sentence another fifteen times without retaining a single fact.

When the stupid alarm on his phone goes off, both Atsushi and Ooshiba’s hands whip out to stop its buzzing.

“Made it!” Ooshiba says proudly, like he isn’t aware that his enormous hand is still covering Atsushi’s own. It’s so big and way too warm, much like the rest of Ooshiba. Atsushi wriggles his hand out and debates whether to make a show of wiping his hand on his jeans or pretending that didn’t happen. He opts for the latter, gently extracting his phone and putting it to the side.

“You survived a whole five minutes of being still! Maybe by the time you turn 20, you’ll manage seven.” Atsushi snorts to himself, shaking off any of the lingering weirdness of earlier when Ooshiba makes an affronted noise. He can’t pretend that his hand isn’t still tingling from the contact, though.

The rest of Atsushi’s shift is, well, far from quiet, but definitely kinda fun.

 

February passes in the blink of an eye. Between his own shifts at the store, and supervising Ooshiba during his under the pretense of studying, Atsushi whiles away the time until graduation. As it turns out, having company outside of school is strangely pleasant, especially during the weekdays that normally drag by.  
As has become routine in the past year or so, Ooshiba finds Atsushi in the yard, right before their graduation ceremony. Their parents and Ooshiba’s older sister aren’t far behind the two of them as they jostle their way into the building.

It’s hard to believe that they’re already graduating from high school, and while Ooshiba talks animatedly about something, Atsushi finds himself watching the emotions play across his face. There’s something about days like this that, even though he knows he’s going to see everyone again if he wants to, makes him want to preserve every memory. He’s normally not the sentimental type, but even he’s weak to graduation, apparently.

Atsushi shakes his head to physically dispel the thoughts, since he’s going to see Ooshiba nearly every day for the whole summer, and has no reason to think about—missing him? It’s just attachment after having gone to school together since they were kids. Well, it’s more than that. They’re friends. Even though their relationship started off pretty roughly, they’re definitely friends now. Acknowledging the thought makes warmth bloom in Atsushi’s chest, and he wants that feeling to stop.

The cherry blossoms are turning him into the narration of a shoujo manga.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you look at it, the ceremony is insufferably boring, and Atsushi spends most of it trying to suppress laughter at the stupid faces Ooshiba is pulling from his seat. They’re seated far enough away from each other that they can’t communicate directly, which is probably a good thing, but the angle between them is perfect for significant looks and goofy expressions.

The girl sitting next to Ooshiba smacks his shoulder in reprimand for the twentieth time, and that nearly makes Atsushi’s poker face crumble. He faces forward resolutely, pressing his lips together and thinking about everything but the way Ooshiba’s eyes sparkle in the overhead lights.

Yeah, Atsushi’s glad that they’re friends. Good friends.

 

“Kimishita, I’m hungry,” Ooshiba whines, for the third day in a row.

“Why didn’t you bring any food?”

Ooshiba stares at Atsushi like he’s insane. “I was just walking around and ended up here! Why would I pack food for a _walk_?”

“Because you’re always hungry? How do you even eat so much?” Atsushi asks, prodding around his bento for something that he can share so Ooshiba will stop complaining.

“I have to feed all this muscle, duh,” Ooshiba replies, and Atsushi wills himself not to smile at the ridiculous pose Ooshiba makes. He’s flexing and leaning against the counter like the dweeb that he is.

Atsushi arches an eyebrow. “Which muscles are those, exactly?”

Ooshiba recoils visibly and gestures to his generous bicep, and then lifts his shirt to point to his abs. It’s hardly the first time that Atsushi’s seen Ooshiba’s stomach, since he has a very tenuous relationship with shirts at practice, but it makes Atsushi feel weird. Jealous, like he’s never been before, and way too warm.

“These ones. Which will wither away to nothing if I don’t eat. Ugh,” Ooshiba whines again.

“Here, have some of mine, then,” Atsushi offers, pushing his bento over towards the overgrown child. Ooshiba’s eyes travel from Atsushi to the bento and back.

“But what will you eat?”

“I didn’t say eat _all_ of it. I don’t know! Go get some food if that’s too complicated, jeez.”

“I’ll have some,” Ooshiba says quietly, and reaches for one of the mini onigiri with a look of contentment on his face. For some reason, Atsushi wants to bury his face in his hands to stop from witnessing the absurdity of the tiny onigiri in Ooshiba’s large hands.

“Like I said, don’t eat it all,” Atsushi mumbles, turning his attention to his phone.

 

Ooshiba develops a habit of being in the neighbourhood more often than is strictly believable, but Atsushi doesn’t mind. He just wishes Ooshiba would remember to bring food once in a while.

He doesn’t, no matter how often Atsushi rags on him about it, choosing instead to happily steal more of Atsushi’s food. It’s alright, since he’s started bringing leftovers in the event of a surprise Ooshiba, who still doesn’t understand the concept of a phone.

If it just so happens that Atsushi eventually starts making twice his normal lunch and keeping it aside for Ooshiba, well, that’s just for him to know. It has nothing to do with the way Ooshiba grins when Atsushi hands him a homemade bento, or how sweetly he thanks him. Nope, not at all.

The rainy season is, as always, a bit depressing. Rain is calming when Atsushi’s indoors and reading, but getting anywhere or doing anything outside is awful. Most people seem to agree, because the store’s been empty for hours. It’s just past lunchtime, and he drops his reading to go organize some stock in the back room. He’s avoided dealing with the morning’s delivery because the weather’s been sucking the energy out of him, but it’s high time he actually gets some work done.

Atsushi is humming off-key to a song on the radio when he hears the jingle of the door. He sighs loudly, because it’s just his luck that people only show up when he starts being productive.

“Welc—” Atsushi stops when he sees Ooshiba standing in the entrance, waving at him. He’s holding a bag in his other hand and is _drenched_ , but somehow excited about it. Atsushi can’t pretend that his heart rate doesn’t pick up like crazy when he sees Ooshiba with his wet, floppy hair, and the equally wet shirt clinging to all of his muscles.

Atsushi takes a very shaky breath.

“I brought food!” Ooshiba exclaims, holding out the bag, which is, thankfully, tied. It takes all of Atsushi’s inner strength to look at the bag and not at the rivulets of water running down Ooshiba’s arms.

“You finally remembered to feed yourself,” Atsushi says, smiling fondly even though he’ll have to mop up the puddle that Ooshiba is creating by the door.

“Oh, it’s for you.” He has no business being so damn _cute_ that Atsushi wants to kiss him, and also so fucking hot while wet— _oh no._

It hits him like a punch to the gut, but Atsushi tries to keep it from showing on his face. The weird squirming in his stomach and the flutter in his chest every time he sees Ooshiba makes a lot more sense now, though this realization will probably only make things worse.

Ooshiba tries to adjust his shirt so it’s not completely stuck to every part of his chest, but he just succeeds in shifting the folds. He gives up with a shrug and shakes out his hair with his hands instead. Atsushi hastily steps back to get out of the splash zone.

“Hey! You’re gonna get me soaked too!” he exclaims, thinking it will make Ooshiba stop. A sly grin spreads across his face and he runs at Atsushi, spraying him with droplets. Despite himself, Atsushi is laughing, trying to swat Ooshiba away to preserve his dignity.

“There. All dry!” Ooshiba says, stopping barely a foot from Atsushi. His hair’s hanging over his face, and he looks like the most adorable mess that Atsushi’s ever seen. Atsushi swallows thickly and stares up at Ooshiba with a barely contained smile. It could be a trick of the light or Atsushi’s eyes, but Ooshiba’s cheeks are redder than usual.

“You’re a menace,” Atsushi mutters, weakly shoving Ooshiba back in a pathetic attempt to seem unimpressed. He can’t even seem to fake it these days, and Ooshiba himself has given up on fighting back. Ooshiba stumbles back dramatically, clutching his heart like he’s been stabbed.

“I bring you food, and you _attack_ me?” Ooshiba says, still holding his hand on his chest.

Atsushi purses his lips. “Dramatic. But, thanks.” His voice sounds almost like his own, which is a miracle considering he can’t stop thinking about how firm Ooshiba’s chest was beneath his hand.

Knowing that Ooshiba is going to freeze and probably get sick, Atsushi shuffles off into the back where he has a change of clothes stashed. He, unlike certain other, very tall, ridiculous, handsome people, plans for the weather and eventualities.

“Kimishita?”

“Give me a second.” Atsushi bends to pull a loose sweater out of his bag, since there’s no way his shirt will get over Ooshiba’s shoulders, let alone be long enough to be anything but a crop top.

“You—” Ooshiba makes a strange little noise and stops talking, which is a cause for concern. Atsushi stands back up and turns around to see what happened, but all he finds is Ooshiba standing in the doorway, still wet, and still _very_ red.

“Are you okay?” Atsushi asks.

“Yeah.” Ooshiba croaks. “Great.”

Atsushi narrows his eyes in disbelief, and thrusts his shirt into Ooshiba’s waiting hands. “Put this on.”

“Will it fit?” Ooshiba asks, and for once, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to make fun of Atsushi’s much smaller size.

“It might. Better that than your wet shirt, though.”

Ooshiba replies with a small, affirmative sound, then promptly starts peeling off his wet shirt, which doesn’t seem to want to come off. All this means is that Atsushi has to focus on the doorjamb very intently for a lot longer than he was planning on. The little distressed noises coming from somewhere in the wet shirt covering Ooshiba’s face make Atsushi laugh, and he’s forced to help. Taking great care to not touch Ooshiba’s skin, he tugs on the shirt and chokes on very ugly laughter.

Soon, they’re both laughing at how much Kimishita’s sweater is stretching to fit Ooshiba, shoulders bumping as they eat.

 

There are only a few weeks left of summer, and Atsushi can’t believe that they’ll be starting university soon. He tries not to think about it, but it’s always floating in the back of his mind.

He’s watching the seconds tick by on the clock opposite the counter, a little spaced out, but he lets himself crash-land back on Earth. Ooshiba is so quiet next to Atsushi that he might as well be asleep, and Atsushi looks over subtly to see if he’s dozing. He expects Ooshiba to be knocked out cold, but he catches Ooshiba looking at him. The moment they make eye contact, Ooshiba’s eyes flit back forward and he makes a little noncommittal sound. Atsushi can’t stop thinking about how blue his eyes are.

“I don’t wanna go to school anymore,” Ooshiba says, though it’s muffled by his arms.

“You’re just lazy,” Atsushi reminds him.

“School’s so _boring_. I have to sit there. All day. And _learn_ stuff.”

“Ooshiba, you sit here all day, too.”

“Yeah, but this is different...” Ooshiba trails off.

“Well, you do get paid to sit here. For your shifts, anyway.”

Ooshiba shrugs. “I don’t even remember when I’m supposed to be working, so I show up every day.”

It’s such an Ooshiba thing to say, to admit that he just comes around because he has no idea when he’s actually supposed to work. A small part of Atsushi is disappointed, since he was hoping Ooshiba was coming to spend time with him, but it’s for the best. He wants this crush to go away, and _soon_. It’s been consuming his thoughts, made even worse by Ooshiba’s sudden hatred of personal space.

“Why don’t you take a picture of the schedule, then?” Atsushi asks.

“Too much work.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“ _You_ are. And who else is going to reach stuff for you?” Ooshiba’s so delighted with himself that he may as well be sparkling.

Atsushi grins and says, “Ugh.”

They sit there in companionable silence for another little while, breached only by Ooshiba quietly saying, “It’s going to be weird not being here with you every day.”

Atsushi’s heart rate climbs through the roof, and he can’t bring himself to make eye contact.

“Yeah, I’m really gonna miss having to feed your gangly limbs,” he adds, as sarcastically as he can manage.

“You don’t _have_ to.” Ooshiba pouts and slouches in his chair, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

Atsushi scratches the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at Ooshiba. “I know.”

The text message buzz of Atsushi’s phone is a welcome break to the tension in the room, and he picks it up to see his mom’s asking him to set aside a few items from the back. It gives him something to do for the next few minutes, and is a reprieve from suffering at the hands of Ooshiba’s incredible cologne, or whatever it is that he wears.

“I’m just going to go set something aside for a customer my mom said is going to drop by later,” he tells Ooshiba, who nods.

“Need help?”

“It’s all on the low shelves, so I’ll be fine.”

They share a smile, and Atsushi goes into the stock room.

Embarrassingly enough, a few of the items were moved to the higher shelf at some point, and Atsushi grabs the step stool as quietly as he can so as not to arouse Ooshiba’s suspicion. Ooshiba has a sixth sense for when Atsushi is using the step stool and _always_ shows up to help and lord his over twenty centimetres’ worth of height advantage over Atsushi. He won’t stop growing, and Atsushi can’t keep up.

He’s up on his tiptoes, reaching for a box, when he feels the warmth of a body against his back. It’s a little startling, but Ooshiba holds his side for support as he reaches up past him to grab the damn thing. Atsushi is flushed, and not ready to turn around, but he does anyway to take the box from Ooshiba before he dies of embarrassment.

If he thought he was flustered before, he soon realizes he’s capable of getting redder. Ooshiba is close to eye level when Atsushi’s on the stool, and barely ten centimetres from Atsushi’s face. Atsushi blinks. All he’s capable of doing is breathing and feeling the heat of Ooshiba’s hand supporting him at the waist. Ooshiba rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, and Atsushi can’t look away.

“Thanks,” Atsushi breathes, and he sounds exactly as winded as he feels. Ooshiba moves his hand, and Atsushi feels its absence acutely, but there is no casual way to ask your friend to keep holding you for no reason at all.

“Glad I could help,” Ooshiba says, and his cheeks are pink too. “Even though you’re _so_ tall right now.”

Atsushi looks down and bites his lip to stop from grinning. Neither of them has made a move to separate, and it’s as incredible as it is maddening. Atsushi’s staring at Ooshiba’s collar bones, then up his neck, and then it dawns on him that Ooshiba’s moved closer. Atsushi wants to kiss him so badly it hurts.

There’s too much going on for Atsushi to process it all, but between Ooshiba’s half-lidded eyes and the hand moving to tuck the stray hair behind Atsushi’s ear, he knows he’s a goner.

“Can I kiss you?” Ooshiba asks, very, very quietly, and his eyes are so round and earnest and _gentle_ that Atsushi can’t really speak. He nods instead, and leans forward nervously.

When Ooshiba’s lips touch his, there’s a part of Atsushi that thinks he’s hallucinating, or possibly dead. It’s a barely-there, gentle press of lips, but Atsushi is breathless, heart beating so hard he feels like his chest might burst. His face burns, and as Ooshiba pulls away, smiling sheepishly, Atsushi grabs the front of his shirt to keep him close.

They’re both breathing way too heavily for how slow and tender the moment is, and it’s like they realize it at the same time, because they start chuckling. Atsushi bites his lip so he doesn’t hurt himself by grinning too much.

“Was that okay?” Ooshiba asks, and he looks so hesitant and _small_ that Atsushi can’t help but to bury his face in his shoulder.

“Yes,” Atsushi mumbles, giddy when Ooshiba’s arms wind around him. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Kimishita?”

Atsushi nods, pulling back a little to pretend like he wasn’t just hiding. “Yeah?”

“I like you.”

Fighting the urge to hide yet again, Atsushi admits, “I like you too.”

Ooshiba’s face brightens impossibly. “Wanna be boyfriends?” he asks, with all the enthusiasm he reserves for his favourite things.

Atsushi wants to scream, _“YES,”_ but he puts a hand on Ooshiba’s chest and says it quietly instead.

“Now we can hang out even after the summer’s over!” Ooshiba says, squeezing Atsushi tightly. Atsushi returns the gesture, and soaks in the warmth of Ooshiba’s body.

“I was going to hang out with you after the summer anyway, you weirdo.” He is surrounded by Ooshiba, blushing like he never has before in his life.

“Yeah, but now we can hang out _more_.”

All of a sudden, the summer coming to an end doesn’t worry Atsushi as much as it had before.

“Sounds good.” It sounds _perfect_ , actually.

 


End file.
